


Monologue of an Abused Side-Villain

by Nightfox_Riveria



Series: Click Here for Free Plotbunnies [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Study, Dark, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Magical Realism, Scary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfox_Riveria/pseuds/Nightfox_Riveria
Series: Click Here for Free Plotbunnies [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722616
Kudos: 5





	Monologue of an Abused Side-Villain

Odd how easily people tend to backstab each other. Some of them truly dislike it and are forced while other are eager and willing to. Yet the psychological shadows left tend to linger but are ignorable, they don't come crashing in waves until you break down into a pile of misery.

How odd.

Call a civilian senseless as soldiers after soldiers die for them.

Call them disrespectful and weak to their protectors, but sometimes it is them whom suffer the most. As warriors have watched as comrade after comrade die or are tortured over and over again for a home that will never save them. Yes, a civilians' words hurt but that does not make it any less true, or fake.

Call them uncaring and greedy as they take and take without restraint.

As they eat full meals while civilians, people whom have worked all day for a meal, starve. As the 'righteous' warriors take the life from those weaker than them. As innocents are drafted into the army, only for them to be used as playthings by their superiors. Not all fighters can use [Name Special Ability], but it doesn't matter because at least you tried.

True, becoming a [Warrior Title] is not an honorable venture of career, but that does not make it any less true or fake.

Then when I escape those accusing eyes with a different change of appearance, of name, that pain lingers still. But they do not scream, they cry instead. Yes I cannot deny those accusations, even when lies twist and dance with the truths. For if one exists, so must the other and to deny one is to deny the other.

I cannot deny that I killed, nor can I deny that I want to live.

It is much easier to act as a tool. Because it is not your hand that kills, but a puppets. An unfeeling puppet that does not feel the backlash of the pointless death, nor the eyes that glare hatred at it. Sometimes I let myself fall to the mere essence of a tool, easily casting off the guise of humanity and allowing myself to be the monster that I am. It is much easier, because if I feel human it hurts. Although those that I have seen die, killed, were once people that I knew, people that I once talked to, touched, felt, I cannot personally hurt those that killed them.

If I do I fear I would lose control.

Afterall I am just a tool.

It lets me forget those empty eyes that stare into the abyss of death. It lets me forget the twitching bodies as nerves die. Because it all starts to blend and now it is no longer the man woman that always smelled like always smiled like laughed like—

I don't like forgetting, even when it hurts so much, but I should. The pain hurts and hurts and hurts but I don't have to feel it, but only if I forget.

Death is the kindest to those in war, but should it? Why is dying the hardest thing to do if it is so welcoming and why am I still alive?

Only the strong-minded can flourish, with tears and cries bitten down and pushed to the back of your thoughts. The weaker ones will fall as trash, useless fools because they broke before they could live.

Don't break.

Don't let them see how shattered you are inside. That will give them an excuse to kill you because I am a waste of space. So what's wrong with one patient dying before they get to the hospital?

I want to live.

I want to live.

I want to—

I want to die.

Why can't you just let me die?

Humans are such selfish creatures and that I should just run run away like a coward, a traitor. No, I am still here because [Home Name] is still home. Isn't it? So I have to protect it, help it win this war.

War is not good.

But it is still beautiful in it's own twisted way.

Because people die and that's bad. Right? Then why is it that when I make them silent they are so peaceful and please I want that.

Is it normal to hunger for blood? For that red red red, smells so delicious I want more, blood. To want it, to need it and to just bite and...leave the weak prey to live another day so that the stronger predators can gorge themselves of the weak weak victim. Food is a gift no matter where it came from...or how I get it.

It's a gift.

Then why?

In war it is normal to starve, right? Then why do I feel like I can gorge and gorge myself on red red, fresh, bloody, delicious... Humans look so delicious, they're going to kill each other anyways so why don't I just take a bite and...

I probably am a demon, because to want to eat human flesh and I feel so hungry when it's raw and red and...I am a demon.

Why did [Name Friend/Relative/Teacher] leave me?

Is it because I'm a demon that he left, but he kept telling me that I'm [Race] and those [Traits that only MC has] are things to be proud of. That these are marks of my proud heritage but then why?

Why?

Why tell me of stories of proud people that earned their meat by eating villainous nobles that plotted against the dragon-son and the gods? That their wealth was earned by right and not might? Those stories that made me proud and want to learn so that I could become just like them, strong and wise, elegant but not arrogant.

That childish dream is something that can never be, so why give me hope? Why tell me that as long as I followed the rules and kept my family safe I would be strong and good and why did you leave me?

I can't do this alone.

Why did you leave me?

You said that if I had friends that I would not be lonely. Your friends betrayed you and left you, but some stayed and is this really what I need and not what I want? One day they'll all leave and then there will only be one look in their eyes, no more kindness or grudging acceptance. There will only be one look in their eyes.

Fear and a disgusted anger.


End file.
